


delicate

by SaintDracTheAlien



Series: scarletvision stories for when you're lying awake at two in the morning thinking about how infinity war Ruined Your Life and looking for fanfiction that'll fix it [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Romantic Fluff, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, and pretty domestic, from vision specifically, i really just wanted to write a weekend retreat story, i'm trying to keep things casual, idk it's sad but also comforting and romantic, is it even angst if it's also so fluffy you're choking, like a month before infinity war, scarletvision - Freeform, scarletvision is a casually romantic couple, they're best friends who hold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDracTheAlien/pseuds/SaintDracTheAlien
Summary: Team Cap has been living like war criminals for almost two years. It hasn't been easy in plenty of ways, but a few specific sufferings have been on Wanda Maximoff's mind lately, and she just can't seem to shake them off. Maybe it's finally time that she voiced her frustrations with the person it affects the most.The Vision has become accustomed to near-constant isolation, and the little time he has to spend with Wanda has started some new wheels turning in his head. His plan is well-intended, but in order to make everything work out perfectly, he's unknowingly fallen victim to a very human weakness.It's a soft, quiet night, and both Wanda and Vision simply want to enjoy their time together - but first, there are just a few obstacles to overcome.(takes about 50 minutes to read entire work)





	1. dive bar on the east side

**Author's Note:**

> I probably shouldn't be starting with angst, but it's pretty light and will end up being overshadowed by the fluff, so I'm rolling with it. 
> 
> Keep in mind that Team Cap is currently camped out somewhere near Garmisch-Partenkirchen in Bavaria, Germany. That's where this story takes place. 
> 
> Also, I have my own idea of what the Maximoffs' childhood looked like, and while it's definitely been influenced by other stuff I've seen online, it may also be unique from yours. If you'd like to say/ask something, please comment! It's actually something I want to write about a lot more.
> 
> Lastly, if you're still on the 'Vision is just a robot' train, you won't enjoy my work. Just a heads up, because this story deals a lot with that.

It couldn’t be a great sign that only half of the ceiling lights had bulbs that weren't burnt out. It made the pub much darker than it should’ve been, which wouldn’t have been a problem if the sun was still up - there were plenty of tall windows to let in natural light.

But it wasn’t that Wanda was afraid, of course, though perhaps she should have been at least a bit paranoid. She was, after all, completely alone, in an unfamiliar country, sitting in a booth in the darkest corner of the dim room. Any other woman that shared her age or situation may have been uneasy - but then again, most women didn’t have Wanda’s obvious advantage.

Besides, there were around half a dozen people on the opposite side of the bar. They seemed friendly with each other, swapping stories and jokes and talking about whatever a group of tipsy neighbours talked about when on this sort of outing together. Something burned in the bottom of Wanda’s stomach as she stole glances at them, and she hated to acknowledge her jealousy over something so trivial, but her thoughts couldn’t resist privately loathing the group. 

One woman spoke to another, raising her eyebrows and waving her hands for dramatic effect, waiting for the perfectly timed gasps that meant her gossip was told with success. The man next to her took slow sips from his beer while trying not to laugh at another drunken companion looking for his glasses, which were conveniently placed on the top of his head. They all seemed so relaxed with each other, as if this was a routine that could never be broken, that their friendship could never be threatened.

As if they had constructed themselves into some kind of unit - one without any chance of an international falling out.

Wanda could hardly stand to listen to herself like this. It was all so ridiculous, wasn't it? That she allowed herself to sit here, watching total strangers and overflowing with bitterness just because they were happy. It reminded her of when she used to use alley ways as bedrooms and street corners as front doors, watching statesmen drive by and hating their children just because they continued to eat food and live in homes.

The biggest difference between Sokovia and the accords named after it was the bullets. While her country was in turmoil, Wanda only really faced the ones made of rubber - but when resisting the accords, she was shot at with the real thing. Perhaps she did have the right to be angry. Not with these people in particular, of course - they didn’t truly deserve it. Rather at the fact that she was here instead of at home, where all of this could have been so much simpler.

Where she wouldn’t have worried about being mugged on the way from the train and accidentally revealing herself as the fugitive ‘Scarlet Witch’. Where she wouldn’t have walked in and seen the terrible lighting, at first being relieved that she wouldn’t be recognized, but later worrying that she wouldn’t be found by the only person she really cared to find her.

She had chosen this spot. It was her turn to choose, and she’d long hoped there would be a chance to visit Germany under better circumstances. So here she was, in a small Bavarian town, sheltered in a 400-year-old building. These weren’t perfect circumstances by any means - she was still an international war criminal for example, and she didn’t get to stay much longer than a day, but she was here for a very important reason. Her time definitely wouldn’t be spent alone much longer.

Something golden suddenly began to glow in Wanda’s mind, steadily growing brighter and melting away her sharp thoughts and memories of anguish. She smiled to herself as she recognized the warmth, taking a deep breath as it came closer, quickly shoving every shallow memory and sour thought into the back of her mind, where they couldn’t bother her anymore. The quiet chatter of the pub faded into background noise, and the group of friends having a pint ceased to cause her such ridiculous grief. A low, Friday night hum began to surround her as she waited.

And waited, and waited, and waited - until she was greeted by the light chime of a bell, and the front door of the bar gently swung open.


	2. you can meet me in the back

Despite the burnt bulbs, the room seemed a hundred times brighter once he was standing in it. Wanda had half a mind to stand up and run to him, definitely drawing attention to herself and completely ruining the purpose of meeting in secret. It had been so long, far too long this time, and now he was standing right there! How could she be expected to just sit here?

But she stayed in the booth, like she knew she ought to, and waited for him to see her. His eyes glanced over the group of friends at the bar, paying them no further attention once he realized she was nowhere among them. He turned to the corner nearest the door, and upon seeing nothing but empty tables, a worried look crossed his face.

Viz, she thought, and his head immediately turned in her direction, hearing the soft whisper through their connected minds.

She laughed quietly as he spotted her, and the Vision’s thoughts quickly turned from his typically quiet, calculated murmurs to a firm and miraculous repetition of Wanda! Wanda. Wanda. Wanda.

He walked to her dark booth as quickly as he dared, carefully avoiding the mismatched stools and chairs that were strewn about the pub. As he reached the table she’d claimed, he gasped slightly in surprise, and for a moment, Wanda was confused.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Your hair is red.” Vision explained, and Wanda smiled in relief.

“Not the most dramatic transformation between the two of us,” she teased, considering Vision was (obviously) in his human disguise.

“Fair point,” he laughed, sitting down across from her, “but you were expecting me to look like this. I, on the other hand, was completely unprepared.”

“There wasn’t too much to prepare for,” she replied lightly, “it’s just hair.”

“But it’s your hair.” he argued, and Wanda was puzzled again.

“And what about my hair?” she asked him.

Vision smiled just a touch more, like he was about to deliver the punchline to a joke, and leaned across the short table. He laid a short kiss on the top of her head, an inch away from her hairline, and answered. “I just didn’t know you could keep finding new ways to look beautiful.”

He sat back down, beaming over his cheesy line, and she laughed at him in a daze.

“How on Earth do you do that so quickly? You’ve only been here a minute and my face is red.”

“You’re the only person that I’m trying to impress,” Vision explained, “But, inconveniently, you’re also the only person who makes me stutter. So I’ve practiced.”

They both laughed lightly at the thought. Vision, who was perfectly spoken in any other circumstance, was worried about being at a loss for words when meeting Wanda in a bar.

“It’s paid off, then,” Wanda assured him, her countenance practically glowing. “But when do you find the time for such silly things like planning how to make me blush?”

Vision paused before answering. “As lonely as it sounds, I am typically the compound’s only occupant,” his voice began to wilt slightly, “and being constantly alone means having time to plan these things out.” He blinked a couple times and exhaled slowly, obviously trying to pass his plight off as nothing important. “I’ve been dying to say a million things to you.”

A stinging sensation shot through Wanda’s chest as she thought about that. How could she have been so angry just a moment ago, watching that group chatting and drinking, wishing that she was in their shoes. The accords may have split the Avengers, but at least she still had Natasha, and Steve, and even Sam. They were fugitives, but at least their team was intact - Vision had no one save for her, and if she thought their time together was solace, she couldn’t imagine what it must mean to him.

Now was her chance to show Vision that at least one person still cared (very much) about him.

“And what else do you do? Besides plot your flattering one-liners.”

Vision seemed to be glad for the change in subject. “Well,” he gestured to himself, “I suppose I have done some work on him in the month since you saw me last.”

“What kind of work?” she wondered, not admitting that there seemed to be nothing different about his disguise.

“I have nothing to show for it. I just...try new things every once in a while,” he answered hesitantly, “Make changes that typically don’t last.”

“And why don’t they last?” she asked carefully, suddenly feeling worried.

“This is the guise I always return to because...well, I suppose because he feels the most like me.” Vision shrugged, sighing before continuing, “But I’m not sure, perhaps he should be different. There must still be things to improve upon.”

And there was the cause for concern. Wanda had known Vision for a long time, and through every new experience or emotion, she had been there to support him and help him understand. Now that they were so often apart, she could assume that he had encountered new problems that no one else had bothered to explain - but that she may be able to help with now.

Wanda stood up from her seat in the booth, quietly walking around the table to the side where Vision sat. He quickly slid over so there was room for her beside him, and soon they were both sharing the smooth wooden bench. She reached down and took one of Vision’s hands into her own, gently sliding her thumb over his knuckles. They both watched their conjoined hands as she did this, Vision seeming perplexed by the action.

Wanda gave him a small smile before explaining, “Same hands as always.”

She looked back up at him and began to study his eyes, giving extra attention to their unique color and brightness. He blinked twice, meeting her gaze with his rare shyness that only showed in vulnerable times like this.

“Same eyes as always.”

And then she tilted her head upwards, pressing her lips softly to his, silently grateful that they were sitting and the height difference wasn’t as substantial as usual. Wanda was suddenly very aware that they were not alone and still in public, but kissed him as deeply as she dared nonetheless. Her eyes immediately fluttered shut with joy - again, it had been far too long since last time.

The moment was too short, but Wanda could not seem to completely shake her nerves over kissing in the bar, and she pulled away sadly once she felt her point had been made.

“My analysis is complete,” she told him, “and I wouldn't change a thing.”

The look on Vision's face was an interesting combination of surprise and amusement, and Wanda could do nothing but smile cheerily as he put himself back in order. He eventually cleared his throat and said, “I wish I had rehearsed a smooth reaction to that surprise.”

“Well, we can practice plenty more,” Wanda reassured him, “once we're not here anymore.”

“Right,” he replied, “and unless you were thinking to order a drink, I say we move on to the next step of the plan.”

Food! Wanda thought, perhaps a bit too loudly, since Vision laughed at her mental excitement soon afterward. 

“I'm assuming you've already found a grocery store nearby?” he asked her.

She nodded quickly, “There's one I love on the way to the hotel. They have them all over the place here, tiny stores with lots of chocolate and fresh bread, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Vision lifted his free hand and gestured to the door, “Then it sounds like we should be on our way.” 

Wanda turned to slide out of the booth, releasing Vision's hand so they could both stand, but instead his grip tightened and he asked, “One last thing?” She turned back around to face him, and her cheek was gently met with a short, sweet kiss.

“Thank you, love,” he whispered gratefully, and Wanda grinned back at him before rising from the creaking bench. Vision followed after her, and together the two joined hands again and strolled out of the pub.

The group of now-wasted bar patrons paid the couple no attention as the bell rang cheerfully behind them.


	3. my reputation's never been worse

“Are you certain? Because we could easily find somewhere nicer, it’s still early in the evening.”

“What’s the point of sitting down somewhere just to eat? We only have one day, Viz, I’m not wasting that kind of time.”

Vision shrugged, obviously happy to let her decide. He didn’t eat anyway, so it truly was up to her. Even still, he always made sure she realized he would take her anywhere she wanted to go - while they didn’t necessarily discuss it, he knew that she probably didn’t get a chance to be out like this very often, considering who she traveled with. Captain Rogers’ team stayed as hidden as possible, visiting corner stores just like this one for their groceries. 

Perhaps it was guilt left over from the accords, or just an instinct that came from loving Wanda as much as he did, but Vision felt she deserved better when given these rare weekends of escape.

“The moment this is all over, and we have our proper kitchen back, you can teach me more of your recipes,” Vision told Wanda hopefully, “and you’ll never have to eat an instant dinner again.”

Wanda looked up from the case of deli sandwiches she was choosing from, her eyes slightly frosted over as she considered what he had just said.

“As nice as I know it will be to finally go home,” she replied shakily, “I don’t think it’s the kitchen I miss, or eating real food, or sleeping in my own bed.” Wanda smiled sadly to herself and turned back to the shelf of sandwiches. “All I really want is my family to be together again, for good. I would live in hotels for the rest of my life if it was with you.”

She chose a paper-wrapped sandwich from the refrigerated display and took it silently to the small counter, just a few steps away. Vision followed her quietly, knowing that this must have been sitting on her mind for a while. Wanda Maximoff was, without a doubt, the strongest person that Vision knew - with how much she had endured, it took a lot for her gaze to go glassy or for her voice to crack. Nothing worried him more than when Wanda let her hurt show, and in moments like these, there was not a single problem he was more determined to fix than whatever ailed her.

Wanda had already handed a bill to the cashier (this was a debate they’d resolved long ago - Vision had not tried to convince her to let him pay in almost a year, per her request) and was waiting on change. He stood behind her patiently, his left hand in his coat pocket, and his right hand hanging at his side. They knew each other well enough that Wanda read his signal immediately - he wanted to listen to her more, but since he knew she preferred having these kinds of conversations in private, they could wait until they were alone. She took his free hand in hers, squeezing it gently, and Vision knew she understood.

“Vielen dank,” Wanda thanked as the cashier handed her several coins back, and she took her sandwich off the counter. The two walked out of the small shop and started down the narrow road, hands still clasped together. 

Rather than asphalt, the street was made of cobblestone, obviously preserved and refurbished over possibly centuries of use. The further they walked, the older the buildings around them seemed to get, and while the road was still well-lit, it was obvious that they were straying from the main area of the town.

Wanda unwrapped her sandwich as they walked, holding it in one hand and keeping her other locked around the Vision’s as they strolled. The area had come alive with golden lights and the sounds of happy chatter - this was Germany after all, and there was definitely more than one pub in the city. The bars were most likely much fuller now than theirs had been earlier. Music leaked through doors that had been propped open, and laughter carried through the air from busy hubs of night life.

Not long after they began walking, a not-so-distant sound of church bells chiming out the hour carried up a side street to the main road. Vision slowed as they approached the alleyway through which the ringing came, knowing from experience that Wanda would want to find the source. She was fascinated with churches - and while he had never pressed her for details regarding her past, Vision knew that she had been raised near a church before being orphaned. Even after her parents’ death, Wanda had been sent to orphanages run by nuns and poor houses sponsored by priests. She may not worship now, but her upbringing had been filled with people of faith, and church bells often played as a soundtrack to any happy memories she had of being a child.

And, in all honesty, watching Wanda stand in awe of something was one of Vision’s favourite things to do. So he turned to give her a knowing look, acknowledging just how well he could predict her actions, and she grinned in return. The pair turned down the side road and headed towards the echoes of the bells.

After only a moment in the dim alley, Wanda spotted a tall, round-topped steeple up the road. The steeple was soon attached to an emerald colored roof, and after reaching the end of the small side street, that roof was attached to a white stucco church. The building stood just a short walk away, and the couple started up the road. This street was a bit quieter, not as vibrant with nightlife but still laced with friendly chatter from restaurants and hotels. It set a peaceful mood over the darkening night.

Wanda took the paper her sandwich had been wrapped in and folded it small enough to fit in her pocket, tucking it away so it wouldn’t accidentally blow down the road. A few steps later, she was standing in front of the simple yet fantastic building, admiring the ginormous wooden doors and beautiful clock face on the front of the tower. Vision turned to watch as she took in the structure, knowing that she was imagining the ornate decorations which may be inside, hearing the sounds of bells and organ pipes and choirs in her head. The church was surely locked by this time of night, but it was no matter.

Perhaps here, in the stillness of the churchyard, Wanda would be more inclined to explain what had been bothering her.

“In the store,” Vision began, “you said that all you wanted now was for the team to be put back together.”

Wanda turned to face him, her eyes twinkling with the light of surrounding lamp posts, and she nodded thoughtfully.

“I wish there was somewhere we could all be safe again,” she explained. “We weren’t military, or mercenaries, or whatever they decided to call us in the accords. We aren’t weapons left unchecked, we’re people. I hope someday they’ll understand.”

She inhaled deeply, looking back at the church, and bit her lip briefly before admitting, “We were ambushed by United Nations police in Poland last week.” Vision’s face immediately changed to a look of shock as she continued, “It was around three in the morning, and the door was being knocked down. Sam came and got me so I could hold the door closed while they escaped through the window. Steve says there was a scuffle on the ground before I made it down, but no more than a few officers. Not even Natasha knows how they found us. I’m lucky that I’m here with you right now.”

“Were you hurt?” Vision asked immediately, his words laced with panic and worry. “Any of you, are you all right now?”

“No, no one got hurt,” she assured him, “everyone is fine. They only came to bring us in, but we all know that would have meant the Raft.” Wanda shivered subconsciously when she mentioned the prison, and Vision furiously remembered the terrible burns that the shock collar had left on her neck. They didn’t heal properly for months - even now, there were faint scars around her neck, like tiger stripes.

“I’m assuming I was an initial suspect?” he asked.

“For the others, yes. But surprisingly enough,” Wanda answered, “they listened to me without much difficulty. You didn’t know where we were, just like you don’t know where they are right now. Once I’d advocated your case, that was the end of it. Although,” she added, “there is currently some light tension as we try to figure out whose disguise got us caught. Hence the dye job.”

“Understandable,” Vision teased, “since I’m certain no Polish civilian would have any idea what Captain America looks like and think to tell the police.”

Wanda laughed, obviously in agreement, and continued, “Oh no, don’t worry, he’s taken his measures as well.”

“Is Captain Rogers’ hair red now, too?” he added with a smile.

“Unfortunately not, though I may have to suggest it,” she scoffed in reply, entertained by the thought. Wanda gave a very long sigh before lifting her free hand up to the Vision’s arm, gently taking hold just above his elbow and turning her body to face him. She looked briefly into his eyes before leaning down and sleepily laying her forehead on top of his shoulder - not necessarily like she was physically worn out, but more as if the events of the past couple of weeks had taken too much of a mental toll on her.

Vision wasn’t exactly sure how to respond when she did this. He never knew whether to turn and embrace her, or stay still and comfort her in some other way. At this point, he assumed she just needed a moment to ground herself, and probably didn’t expect any action from him in return (otherwise, she would have asked for it by now). So, like usual, he simply stood as she leaned on him for support, listening to her deep breathing and feeling her warmth through his light coat.

A moment of quiet passed between the two before Wanda looked back up, keeping her soft grip on Vision’s sleeve, and whispered in a broken voice, “I just want to go home with you this time.”

It struck him like an arrow in his chest. There was something heavy sitting behind her eyes as she said it, darkening their color and dimming their usual brightness. He was used to occasionally seeing Wanda’s eyes glow red, knowing that it was a subconscious side effect of her powers, but this had nothing to do with her abilities - she was emotionally exhausted, attempting to hide immense stress and frustration and quickly reaching her breaking point.

“I’m sorry,” Wanda continued hurriedly, letting go of Vision’s arm. “I tried so hard not to bring it up, but I can’t keep it from you anymore.” She was desperately blinking away the tears gradually forming in her eyes, determined not to let a single drop spill. “Everyday I wish I’d made a different choice, because I chose this, Viz, but I never would have if I’d known it would end like this.”

“No, don’t apologize, love,” Vision whispered as he quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, feeling her own hands fold around his waist. She held onto him firmly, shaking slightly, still forcing herself not to cry. “This will never be your fault, you can’t blame yourself for it.”

“I shouldn’t have made you stand aside at the compound,” she spoke into his chest.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep you from leaving,” Vision argued, “and I should have started thinking for myself a long time ago. I would have gone with you in an instant. There are too many choices that should have been made differently, Wanda, but they are long past us. I don’t want them to hurt you now.”

A choking sob finally racked through Wanda’s body, and Vision hugged her tighter, knowing that she hated being upset right now but hoping to comfort her all the same. His chest tightened with red-hot pain as he listened to her cries, even as she tried to muffle them, knowing that there was so little he could do now.

“And this will not last forever, remember. Your team won’t let it, and I won’t let it. I promise.”

But as much as he hated to admit it, the accords themselves would likely never change. There was no attempt to revise them now, and no one to clear the fugitive status on the Avengers remaining in hiding. Vision had been in a dozen arguments over the topic with Colonel Rhodes, and at least twice that many with Stark. Not one United Nations country had switched to the opposition, even during the last two years of the Avengers’ inactivity, and from here it seemed as if the world had completely forgotten about the people who repeatedly defended them.

The signatures remained on paper, and Vision knew that he would eventually have to leave the compound himself if he hoped to keep seeing Wanda. It was why he had been modifying his disguise so often, trying to find something that would fit him well full-time. Secretary Ross could not dismiss Vision’s common absences for much longer - he was bound to become suspicious, and once Stark was given notice, that would be the end of it, and that could never be allowed to happen.

It was that determination, combined with Wanda’s anguish, that led Vision to make a decision that had sat on his mind for a while: this would be the last time he returned to New York. The next time he left the compound would be the last, no matter what that meant for the accords or for Stark. He couldn’t just keep watching Wanda as she let the distance between them sit like a burden on her shoulders. He had to do something to fix it, to create a permanent solution for the problem he had helped cause. Vision had to give her sanctuary.

But he couldn’t tell her yet. Not now, while they stood embracing on the sidewalk, fearful that if they were to let each other go it would be for the last time. Not while he ran his fingers through Wanda’s newly colored hair and pretended like he couldn’t feel any difference. Not while she turned her head to listen to Vision’s heart beat in his chest, not realizing how it ached with guilt and grief for her.

Right now, they were in Bavaria, and they had been standing in front of this church for nearly fifteen minutes. So they reluctantly separated and joined hands again, Wanda rubbing tear stains off of her cheeks, and the couple walked a little more closely together down the road.


	4. you must like me for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit might not seem to fit very well with the story description (it is nearly 100% happy and chill) but I'm building up to the final conflict of the story, which will be in the next chapter (and! I'm thinking the next chapter will also be the conclusion, so it might be rather long but definitely worth the read (and the wait, if there ends up being a considerably lengthy one)).

“Do you think, since we have the top floor this time…?” Wanda asked in a hushed tone.

“You know I would love to, but it’s impossible to ensure we won’t be noticed.”

“What if we stayed on the roof? No real flying, just a quick little hover up to the top, to take a look?”

Room 302 was tucked in the back corner of the small hotel’s top floor. From outside, it had looked like there were two double-pane windows, though there could possibly be more. While the roof wasn’t completely flat on top, the incline was not steep, and could most likely be sat on comfortably.

With this information in mind, Vision stood in front of the door, watching Wanda as she waited for his answer. Her half-smirk indicated she knew the answer he wanted to give, and while he knew it wasn’t the most secure option, he was finding it difficult to refuse her.

“We could probably make that work,” Vision decided, and Wanda’s hopeful grin turned into an enthusiastic smile. She celebrated silently so as not to cause a disturbance, feigning cheers as the Vision playfully rolled his eyes and unlocked their door.

The inside of the room was dark, a deep blue glow of moonlight melting through the windows. There were only the two windows after all, on separate walls from each other. On one of the window-less sides of the room was a freshly made bed cloaked in a thick duvet, and on the other, a pair of doors that assumedly led to a bathroom and closet. Vision entered first, turning to hold the door open for Wanda and closing it quietly after her. She found a set of light switches next to the door and flipped the first one on, squinting briefly as a set of can lights drastically brightened the room.

“It is too late at night for this,” she decided, and leaned over to turn on a lamp at the side of the bed before shutting off the ceiling lights. The lamp was much softer, casting a warm orange light over the small area. Wanda slid off her backpack and held it in her hands while opening the first door. It was a closet - she set her bag on the floor beside it and began shrugging off her coat. Vision had already taken his off, and once his had been hung in the closet, held out a hand to take Wanda’s from her. She smiled once he had and said, “Don’t take your shoes off just yet if we’re going out the window.”

“Your excitement is remarkable, Wanda.”

“I never get to fly anymore! And I never get to sit on the roof anymore!”

“And so you will always ask, no matter how often it’s been unsafe?” Vision asked.

Wanda had undone the latch on one of the wide windows, gently swinging open each pane and letting a light breeze into the room. It was nearly as silent outside as it was inside, the town having mostly retreated for the night (though, in the distance, singing could still be heard from bars that remained open).

“Yes, I will always ask,” she answered, “because I will never forget about the time we spent in the sky above the compound. Those are some of my most precious memories.”

For Wanda, the early hours of the morning had often seen insomnia - and eventually, an insatiable desire to learn to fly. Luckily for her, Vision hardly slept (he’d only really started once he and Wanda had begun meeting like this, solely because the experience was much more enjoyable when she was in bed beside him). While the stars were still out and the sky was clear, she would look up at Vision as he hovered at the ledge and ask him to teach her. They barely knew each other at the beginning, bonded only by Ultron and their shared status as powerful newcomers, but it was enough to act as a seed. Flying was the next thing to bring them closer together.

Learning to fly was very different to Wanda, of course. Vision had flown for the first time before even taking his first steps, but when she had started learning, she’d still only possessed her powers for less than a year. While training with the Avengers had helped her become more in control of her abilities, her magic was still new territory and not quite understood by the rest of the team. It’s powerful potential was untapped, and while experimenting wasn’t prohibited, Wanda was afraid to try anything reckless inside, where she could potentially do harm. So Vision showed her how to get to the open sky, describing his actions as well as he could so she could copy him, staying at her side in case she began to fall.

Wanda eventually made a way of flying for herself by learning to use her telekinesis on her own body. The most difficult part was keeping herself in the air after lifting off, and staying afloat required constant concentration on her part. It eventually grew easier, however, and soon enough, she could keep herself far enough above the compound to mess around without fear. It was Vision who eventually suggested they start taking excursions through the surrounding airspace, and so began the nights of starlit flying that Wanda so fondly remembered. They never traveled far, since nothing of great interest was nearby, but the distance covered together led Wanda to realize one thing about Vision - he was the only Avenger who thought to spend free time with her.

While Natasha and Steve had always been especially good to her, they still thought of her as a sort of adopted kid sister. That had never been the case with Vision, despite how easy it would be for him to look down on just about everyone (literally and metaphorically). He was her best friend, the person closest to her since she had lost Pietro. How surprised the Wanda of the past may have been, if only she knew what the future held...

Or so the Wanda of the present pondered as she firmly planted her toes on the window sill, a familiar red glow hovering around her fingertips once she slowly began to stand up straight. Gravity would have immediately overcame most human beings, pulling them toward the asphalt ground three stories below. Wanda Maximoff kept herself out of its reach, however, before bending her knees and pushing off the ledge, her red sparks flickering brightly as she flew upwards. Earlier, she had agreed that they could only fly to the roof, so she savored the few seconds she had to enjoy the weightless feeling before landing herself on the angled rooftop. A moment later, Vision was sitting beside her, still in his human disguise as a precaution.

“Assuming that we’re continuing on the path of nostalgia, what deep and dark subjects should we discuss tonight?” he asked once settled, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning back to have a better view of the stars above them.

“We wasted so much time talking about that stuff.” Wanda answered pessimistically.

Vision laughed at her grumpy response. “I happen to enjoy learning about your life,” he informed her, “no matter how terrible it seems to have been.”

“And why was that? Surely, the story of a Sokovian orphan raised equally by nuns and Nazis is not that uplifting of a tale.”

“It proves your resilience,” he argued, laying down beside her, “and is evidence that you have always been this good at heart. That you are who you are for a reason.”

Wanda smiled softly, and admitted, “You are only ever optimistic. I’d go insane without it.”

There was stillness as the two watched the night sky. A dark outline of the nearby mountain peaks surrounded them, and a cover of stars peeked out above it brightly. The moon still sat low in the sky, not far above the mountain tops, and appeared as a dim shade of yellow as it rose.

“What else would you like to be optimistic about tonight?” Vision asked a moment later.

Wanda closed her eyes and thought back on their earlier conversation. “You’re excited to have a proper kitchen. You want to cook again.”

He smiled, “I do want to cook again.”

“What else?”

“What else...about the kitchen?”

“About anything you miss. What else do you want back?”

Vision did not have to consider the question for very long before answering, “The roof.”

“The roof,” Wanda sighed, “and the sky above it.”

“The fleece blanket you started keeping in the hall closet, just outside the stairs up.”

“My blanket!” Wanda whimpered, “If they’d let me back in for only 5 minutes I’d grab it second.”

“Second? What are you taking first?”

“You’re first.” Wanda clarified, hoping the line wasn’t too cheesy. She was being sincere.

“Oh. I’m an option?”

“In my perfect world, yes.”

Vision considered his response carefully. “And just to save you the trip, I would have your box with me already.”

“My little wooden one?” Wanda asked, to which Vision nodded. “I took one thing out of it before I left. It was the only important thing in there.”

“I know,” Vision confessed. “I didn’t go into your bedroom for months, but when we first found each other again and this all began, I went to find your photograph for you. I thought you might want it, but it was already gone.”

Vision could hear the sound of Wanda breathing deeply as she thought about Pietro’s family photograph, which was almost certainly somewhere on her person right then.

“The rest of the papers in that box are recipes, mostly. Some of them might be addresses.”

“That’s why I would have it ready when you came to collect the blanket and I.”

“Because of the recipes?” Wanda asked, puzzled.

“How else are we supposed to enjoy the kitchen if there’s nothing to cook?”

Wanda laughed, clear and happily, in a way that always made Vision’s heart flutter when he heard it. She had a habit of placing her right hand on her left side when she laughed properly, just below her ribs. Vision smiled when he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” Wanda giggled, “so far we have the kitchen, a box of recipes, the rooftop, and our fleece blanket from the closet.”

“Our favourite places and the thing that makes them special.”

“Exactly! Okay, is that the game? We pick a place and one thing to put in it?”

Vision nodded with a chuckle, turning his head to look at Wanda, and replied, “It would seem so, yes. That is the game.”

“Wonderful, it’s your turn to pick a place then.”

And so they went on, each taking a turn in their silly sort of game until the entire compound had been covered from top to bottom - and even after that it seemed as though there were a million things to enjoy talking about under the stars. 

By time Vision could convince Wanda that they should return inside, she was fighting to keep her eyes open, determined to stay awake with him for as long as she could. He secured an arm around her waist and gently levitated them both back down to the window, which had been left open a crack. They quickly pushed the panels open and entered through, Wanda sliding in first before the Vision followed after her, and she made certain to turn the lock before drawing the curtains closed.

The moon had since risen much higher in the sky, and the stars were far more plentiful now that the city had put out its lights - but the night still seemed a bit sadder without the sound of the two Avengers’ elated conversation.


	5. (and she must like me for me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! this is kinda long. hope that's good news rather than bad.
> 
> this is the last chapter of delicate! I already have a couple other stories for this series in the works, and they'll have first chapters posted within the next few days.
> 
> I felt like this chapter was an important element of the story, but at the same time, writing it was a bit difficult. if you're willing, please leave some feedback in the comments, be honest and tell me what you thought about this part in particular - it'll help me improve!
> 
> finally: this story is written as taking place about a month before the infinity war. for anyone seeking maximum angst, keep that in mind! it'll break your heart to remember.
> 
> thanks for reading! enjoy xx

Wanda had brought flannel pajama pants and a cotton T-shirt for sleeping in, and once the window had been locked, she decided she truly was tired enough to change for bed. She took her clothes and toothbrush into the bathroom while Vision sat down to take his shoes off, deciding to let Stark know when he would be returning the following day, even though he really didn’t feel like it. An update was always appreciated, and would keep away suspicion that Vision was planning on going AWOL any time soon, but still - it didn’t seem like there was much purpose to it at this point.

With a sigh, Vision took a cell phone out of his pocket and sent Tony Stark a text message (while he could technically send the message through his own internet connection, it had started to feel strange, and he needed to get used to blending in and acting normally anyway).

Train leaves at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon. I will return to the compound by Sunday morning.

Sent. At least next time, there would hopefully be no need to plan a return trip.

While Wanda was changing, Vision thought he would do the same, but suddenly realized that there was a small inconsistency with this part of preparing for bed. Usually, he would simply turn off his disguise and sleep as his regular self - but lately, a strange feeling had been hanging over him. He was sort of growing attached to the facade, leaving it on even while alone in Avengers compound. It wasn’t that staying in camouflage served any real purpose, yet it still strangely seemed to make him feel more comfortable, and he had no idea as to why.

He wasn’t really sure how to justify it, actually.

So Vision had brought his own pajamas, and began to change only his clothes, rather than his entire appearance. It would be the first time he slept looking like a true human, which was an odd feeling. Would it eventually become a nightly occurrence, once Vision left the isolated compound permanently? He supposed it could be possible. There would be plenty more time spent incognito if he was successful in his upcoming disappearance. Could there soon be a day when Vision never took the disguise off?

The idea instantly confused him, to say the least. He’d already started subconsciously keeping the disguise on, and soon enough, he would probably be spending most of his time in it. This was a logical conclusion to come to, and he did not oppose it. Yet the notion made him uncomfortable to think about, as if he shouldn’t be so accepting of its unavoidability. What could it mean to both want something and feel wrong having it at the same time?

While folding his regular clothes and packing them for his departure, Vision decided it couldn’t be good to keep these thoughts to himself, considering how dramatically his life was about to change. Would it be a good idea to gently bring up the subject with Wanda? She did know him best out of anyone, and it was almost instinctual for him to ask for her input. But at the same time, it seemed like such a ridiculous thing to worry about, especially since Vision didn’t particularly understand why it was worrying him.

He was still considering whether or not to speak up when there was a slight creak as the bathroom door opened, and Wanda returned, dressed for bed and holding a hairbrush in her hand.

“Have you already done that?” Vision asked, gesturing to the brush.

“No, I was going to sit at the window and do it,” she answered with a sleepy smile, “so I could be out here with you.”

Wanda pulled over a wooden chair from its spot in the corner, placing it in front of the window and facing the foot of the bed, where Vision sat. The room was still only lit by the bedside lamp, and the orange glow of the light made Wanda’s hair look even darker red than it did before, especially since now that she had it hanging loose instead of swept behind her and under a cap.

Beautiful. The single word passed through Vision’s head in that moment. But now that they were in the room together, it seemed easier to detect the connection between them, and Wanda smiled to herself as she instantly picked up on Vision’s thoughts.

“You’re fascinated with funny things,” she laughed quietly, running the brush through a front section of her hair.

“You know, that could be my tagline,” Vision teased.

“Why have you been thinking about my hair so much today?” Wanda sighed before continuing, “Is the color really that big of a change?”

“Not in a bad way,” Vision promised her, “I suppose it just keeps catching my eye.”

“You’re sure it’s not because you hate it?” she asked flatly.

“Of course I don’t hate it,” he laughed, “I will always love it. You could dye it pink and blue if you wanted.”

Wanda was quiet as she continued her brushing, despite Vision’s obvious joking. Perhaps she was just tired out?

“Something else is bothering you then, Viz. What were you thinking about out here?”

“While you were changing?” But of course he knew exactly what he had been thinking about - although he hadn’t realized it was loud enough for Wanda to hear. Their connection wasn’t typically strong enough for that unless they were right next to each other (or, like in a few rare cases, putting in special effort to be heard over a great distance).

“Yes. It felt like...resignation, and confusion. And I know how you feel when you’re frustrated, but this wasn’t quite it, this was more like...I’m not even sure.”

Vision thought about what else had gone through his mind once Wanda left to get ready for bed, thinking that maybe he could change the subject until he was sure what it was he wanted to say. The first thing he did was send a message to Stark, at the compound - and he’d definitely felt resigned then.

“Not Stark,” she eliminated immediately after picking up the name, shaking her head, “everything is red when you think about him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and there’s obviously no objection to that from me,” Wanda confirmed with a small and fleeting smirk, her concerned frown immediately returning afterward. “But I’ve never felt something like this from you before.”

Perhaps there was truly no avoiding it then. Or maybe, this was a sign that the issue was meant to be talked about. Either way, Vision was uncharacteristically nervous to discuss it. Talking to Wanda was his favourite thing to do, and it didn’t seem right that he was afraid to do it over something so apparently trivial.

“That. That’s it,” Wanda’s eyes widened a bit and she set the hairbrush down on the windowsill behind her. She stood up from the chair and moved to sit on the corner of the bed, directly at his side. “What is that?”

The Vision was looking down toward his lap, considering how to answer her question, when he felt Wanda’s hand gently rest on the back of his shoulder. He turned to look at her instead, seeing worry reflecting in her eyes, and decided that providing her with an explanation would be worth his embarrassment.

“Do you...prefer me like this?” he asked.

Wanda’s eyes narrowed in confusion, her concern heightening still. “Prefer you like what?”

He didn’t know how to kindly describe it to her.

“When I look like this. Like I’m a usual person, like I’ve lived a human life.”

At his clarification, Wanda’s jaw dropped just slightly, enough to show both her surprise and faint horror. He was finding it strangely difficult to breathe.

“Vision...” she began, but trailed off, sensing he had more to say.

“You said earlier that you wouldn’t change a thing. And I believe you,” he added, “but lately I’ve been feeling like I need to change. And sometimes, when I’m alone in New York, this is what I look like. Even when there is no one around to recognize me, or even see me.” He stopped to take a shaking breath, never daring to look away from the woman sitting in front of him, before continuing, “As if it’s a personal improvement, rather than the simple facade it truly is. And I wish I knew what to call this feeling, but I’m just not sure. I need your help, Wanda.”

The silence between them was uneasy, and it felt as though neither of them knew exactly what to say next. Wanda was biting her lip, a habit which Vision easily recognized - she was deciding whether or not to say something difficult. He looked at her earnestly, silently encouraging her to speak whatever was on her mind.

“Viz...you may think I’m ridiculous, but...I think what you’re talking about is your self-image. Which would be something you haven’t really struggled with before,” she added, “but trust me when I say that everybody has a problem with it eventually. I think about it all the time, honestly - every human being does. It’s just part of us.”

Vision considered this revelation for a minute, mulling it over in his head. He hadn’t really thought that this new mindset was a result of not being satisfied with himself as he was. Wearing the disguise more often had seemed like an easy survival strategy, a physical state that he ought to get used to if he hoped to exist in the world unnoticed. But perhaps Wanda had a point when she said that wanting the change to be permanent could be a sign that he was unhappy with his natural self.

“That being said,” she continued, “you are experiencing a unique version of the problem. Which is understandable - your life is very different from any other.”

“I don’t think that I’m dissatisfied with my appearance as much as I am with...the fact that I have to change it just for us to live,” he finally answered. “Adjusting myself to fit their requirements seems to have caused me to dislike what they can’t see. To feel uncomfortable when I know they would be afraid if they could see me as I am. There’s this instinct that’s telling me to look human constantly,” Vision blinked once, suddenly feeling a sting in his eyes, “because if not, who would ever believe that I truly am?”

The burning grew stronger, and although Vision had cried very few times in his life, he knew the feeling well already. He really didn’t want to cry, just like Wanda hadn’t wanted to earlier - but her cause still seemed much less foolish than his. He hadn’t even expected to say half of what he did, but once he’d started his explanation, the rest of his deeply buried insecurities seemed to come out with it.

She must have been able to tell that he was feeling overwhelmed, however, because as soon as he was silent, Wanda slid close enough to gently cup his face in her hands. One of her hands drifted up to his temples, her fingers combing through his short hair briefly before returning to his cheek.

“Turn it off,” she whispered, her voice steady but laced with sorrow. “Let me see you.”

Vision was slightly surprised at the request, but he gave a small nod and shut his eyes before phasing out of his disguise. He really couldn’t feel the physical difference between having it on and off, but after opening his eyes again and seeing his hands as they normally were, his stomach seemed to drop.

This really didn’t seem fair - why should he be so afraid of his own skin?

“I don’t want you to feel angry,” Wanda softly said, picking up on the frustration that had overcame him. Her thumb began slowly brushing his left cheek, and Vision leaned into the comforting action slightly. “And first of all, you and I both know that we have no reason to be afraid right now, okay? We’re safe here.”

He nodded, and Wanda continued, “Do you remember your first night, at the top of the tower, and they were afraid of you? When they asked you what you were?”

A small smile crept across Vision’s lips, and he whispered, “Yes.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I am,” he answered slowly, the stinging behind his eyes beginning to subside.

“And you still are,” Wanda told him, “and you are every inch as human right now as you’ve ever been. The only difference between us is that my bones are made of calcium and yours are made of something a million times stronger. ‘I am,’ you said, and you didn’t intend to apologize for it.”

Wanda looked down to find Vision’s hands, taking them both in her own and holding them tightly before looking back up into his eyes. “And if you’re worried about being recognized, there isn’t a single soul on Earth that you should fear, no matter how they see you. I think we can very well handle ourselves out here, don’t you?”

Vision chuckled quietly, watching her smile mischievously. “You know I don’t doubt our capabilities,” he answered seriously, “but I can’t risk losing you over something as ridiculous as that. I can’t help but worry, Wanda.”

Wanda’s smile turned from playful to endearing, and she tilted her head just slightly before replying, “I know, love.”

Her eyes softly closed as she leaned in closer, her lips gently meeting his in their second kiss of the night, their hands still firmly clasped together. Bliss suddenly flooded the Vision, replacing every last speck of fear or anger with the kind of joy that only ever came from Wanda. This time, there were no strangers to witness, no glasses clinking in the background, and no flickering lights overhead - it was just the two of them and the golden glow of the bedside lamp. Wanda’s hair fell in a curtain around her face, and Vision was half tempted to let go of her hands just to feel the strands between his fingers as he kissed her.

When they finally parted, she grinned before remembering, “I did say we could practice more of that, didn’t I?”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about it all night.”

“Say something next time,” she hummed happily.

“I would have if I wasn’t so busy having an existential crisis,” he teased, and Wanda laughed before letting go of one of Vision’s hands, instead taking gentle hold behind his ear and propping herself up on her knees for easier access. This kiss was delivered just a bit more energetically, and Vision fulfilled his wish of running his recently released hand through Wanda’s loose hair. The action was packed so full of delicate ardor it made her cheeks flush pink, and she leaned into the brush of his fingertips. The hand which Wanda hadn’t already settled on the back of his neck eventually wandered up his arm, feeling the soft cotton of his long sleeves. 

Once they had started kissing, neither really wanted to stop - it had been much too long since their hearts had last beaten so quickly together. So each time they paused for breath, it was only for a moment before one of them would start it up again, smiling against the other’s lips as if this moment of affection was the greatest they’d ever experienced. It very well may have been, considering just how rarely they even had the chance to speak, much less share this kind of embrace.

Which meant it was even more annoying when the sound of a nearby car alarm suddenly pierced the nighttime silence, making them both jump in surprise. Wanda’s head whipped around to face the source of the noise, which must have been just outside the window, where she’d drawn the curtains closed nearly an hour ago now. When she turned back to see a faint look of irritation on Vision’s face, she laughed as quietly as possible.

“How rude of them to interrupt us like that,” Wanda whispered teasingly. She yawned promptly afterward, as if just remembering how tired she was. “What time is it?”

Vision quickly reached over to one of the nightstands, picking up the watch he had taken off earlier, and squinted slightly to see its face in the lamplight.

“Just past midnight,” he answered, “and while I’m sure it was after eleven when we came back inside from the roof, we’ve put off sleep much longer than you probably should.”

“Worth it,” Wanda decided with a mumble, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Worth it,” Vision agreed with a grin before setting the watch back on the nightstand, pulling up the corner of the blankets while he was turned around. He stood up from the bed and walked around to the side - Wanda didn’t feel like putting in the effort however, and simply lifted her feet up before sliding across the mattress and slipping under the covers.

Vision smiled at the sight. “Impressive maneuvering.”

“Thank you,” she replied, half-muffled by the pillow she had already collapsed into. Soon enough, Vision was in bed beside her, watching her eyelashes flutter as her eyes struggled to stay open. He reached over top of her quickly to turn off the lamp, and the amber light was replaced with nearly total darkness. The room’s only light was now the sparse blue glow that seeped through the curtains from the street - barely enough for Wanda to see the outline of Vision’s shoulders as he settled next to her.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered to him, almost too quietly to be heard. “Don’t forget that.”

“Do you expect it to slip my mind before morning?” he joked faintly.

“Well, I’ll probably remind you then too, so we won’t worry about it either way.”

Vision beamed, suddenly aware of just how much he truly adored the woman next to him. He laid one last kiss on her forehead, knowing that she was too tired to hear what he was thinking, but hoping the gesture was sweet enough to make up for it.

“I love you too - don’t forget that.”

It was the last thing Wanda heard before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
